Falling
by Wolfriun
Summary: Scout falls down from a tall tower and ends up in hospital. The team decides to teach him a lesson instead of letting Medic heal him, but Sniper soon regrets his choice. T for cuddles and swearing and stuff. Contains fluffiness and slash in case you are unable to notice this: Sniper/Scout.
1. Chapter 1

"So anyway, I just, y'know, shot that freakin' moron right in his stupid face, I mean, he didn't even know who I was, right? He probably mixed me with someone else or something, I don't know, but seriously, he was like, BAM! Dead! I got the Intelligence and…"

Sniper sighed. It was difficult to concentrate when Scout kept talking and disturbing him. He moved a bit on the crate he was sitting on. His gun was pointing out of the window, ready to shoot whoever passed. He'd climbed the old wooden tower facing the BLU base, which gave him an excellent view over the bridge. And a perfect place to blast away some heads. The only thing was: how had Scout found him? Could they see him from the ground? If they could, it could easily turn into a big problem, if he didn't move.

"So," Sniper said, not really wanting to talk with this annoying kid, but he needed to find out. "How did you find me, anyway?" He didn't turn around, it was important to focus on the bridge.

"I just watched you from the start, and it ain't _that_ hard gettin' up here. I could just jump up there and grab the ledge, you know, I was one of the best jumpers at school, in fact, I was the best at almost everything, I'm just so freakin' awesome, right?"

He did _what_? That's just… creepy.

"You did _what? _Why?"

He noticed something red and quickly moved his scope so the owner of the red gloves' head was in the middle of it.

_BAM!_

A headless Medic fell to the ground. Sniper laughed lowly when he heard the RED Heavy's desperate call for the dead Medic. A moment later, the big guy fell headless to the ground next to his beloved Medic.

Sniper felt Scout's presence as the boy in the blue shirt sat down next to him. Why couldn't this annoying kid leave him alone? He tried to ignore the Bostonian's arm, which was barely touching his arm.

"Well," Scout said, "I thought you seemed like a cool guy. Like, all the others are so freakin' lame! Seriously, you're the only one who even listens when I speak, the others are all 'nah, screw you, man', but you never leave when I talk with you."

"That's mainly because I'm not supposed to run around like a bloody idiot like everybody else," Sniper mumbled, just as loud as Scout could hear him.

"Yo, there's no need to be rude."

"Then shut up, and let me concentrate."

"Sure, no problem, I can be really quiet. Like a mouse. I actually kind of like mice, I don't really get it, why does everybody think they're so gross? I mean, they're just small furry balls who run around, minding their own business, until someone comes and gets all 'oh my god is that a mouse' and-"

"Which part of _shut up_ was it that you didn't understand?" Sniper asked grumpily, just as something red flashed over his scope. "Great. I lost one."

"Jeez, man. You're so boring."

"Then why are you still here?" Sniper was starting to get a bit angry at this point, causing the question to be a bit harsher than intended.

"I don't really know, man." Scout's voice was sad. "I'm just tired of gettin' pushed around all the time. 'Scout, go get the intelligence', 'Scout, go capture that point', 'Scout, do this', 'Scout, do that'. It's just so… freakin' annoying! But you're not like that. I've never heard _you_ command anybody around, not even me. So I guess I just thought I could stay with you today."

Sniper didn't respond to this, making them both sit in silence. It was weird, knowing Scout was there, and it being silent at the same time. He glanced quickly at him. Scout was studying an empty can of _Bonk! Atomic Punch_. The angriness from earlier was still there, but not as much as it used to be.

That was until Scout's head fell down on Sniper's shoulder, as the boy fell asleep. Sniper started a couple of inches to away from him, unaware of the coffee cup he had placed in the window earlier. His gun hit it, causing it to fall down, and spilling hot coffee all over him.

He'd been in a horrible mood all day, but this was the thing that made it boil over. Cold anger floated in his blood. He needed to get it out, and Scout was the only one around. In a fog of rage and madness, he did something he'd regret for a long time.

One moment, he was pushing Scout away.

The next moment, Scout was on the opposite end of the room, shaking with fear and shock. Sniper was holding his Kukri in his right hand. There was blood on the tip. Scout's blood.

The Kukri slipped out of Sniper's hand as he noticed the big cut on Scout's left cheek. The boy had probably managed to sidestep the slash of the big knife, or he would've been dead by now.

"Wha-what the Hell, man?" Scout's voice was shaky. His terrified and hurt look pierced through Sniper's feelings.

"I'm sorry, mate, I don't know wha-"

"You're _sorry?!"_ Scout was almost yelling at this point. He touched his cheek with his right hand. "I'm frickin' _bleeding!"_

That was true. He was bleeding. Bleeding a lot. Sniper had no idea what he should do, as he usually didn't care when he hurt people, but for some reason, he felt extremely guilty for this. He took a step towards Scout, wanting to wipe the blood of his face.

"G-get away from me!" Scout stepped backwards. Sniper could see his eyes getting watery.

"Listen, kid, I'm sorry. I don't know what went over me, a'ight?" Sniper had no idea what he should be saying, as he'd never been in a situation like this before.

"_All right? _Yeah! It's totally fine," Scout screamed hysterically. "Except for the fact that you _almost killed me!_"He took yet another step backwards.

"Here, let me jus' wipe the blood of your face," Sniper said. The cut was pretty wide, at least one and a half inches long, bleeding a lot at this point.

"You-you stay away from me." Scout stepped backwards again. One step too much. Sniper leaped forwards to grab him, but it was too late.

"_Scout!"_

Scout was falling towards the ground, and there was nothing Sniper could do to stop it.

Nothing at all.


	2. Chapter 2

_Scout was falling. Faster than he'd ever been falling before. Down and down, in a void of blackness. He didn't yell, as he wasn't afraid. For some reason, there wasn't any wind around him, no air whooshing in his ears. In fact, it was completely quiet. No noise. No explosions or gunshots. No screaming, yelling, moaning or crying for a Medic. So peaceful. _

_ He had no idea where he was falling. There were no sign of floor or ground below him. It was like he was in a black void. He could've been falling upwards for all he knew. That was a fun thought. Falling upwards. He closed his eyes, as he kept falling…_

_And falling…_

"…An' then the kiddo managed to fell down from the bloody tower…" Sniper's voice pierced through the peaceful darkness like an arrow. Why was he doing that? Maybe he wanted to cut him again, wouldn't be much of a surprise if he wanted to, taking in consideration that the Aussie was pretty much insane or something. Scout decided to ignore Sniper's voice, when another voice pierced through the darkness in the same way as Sniper's had.

"Zee boy vas lucky to survive, it vas a long fall." Medic. Why was Medic here, in Scout's perfect, peaceful darkness? This… Crazy _ex-Nazi_ had nothing to do here. Nothing at all. Couldn't they all just… Go away, and leave him alone? He knew that opening his eyes again would make the void disappear, forcing him to go back to getting pushed around by everything and everybody. A rhythmical beeping noise slowly grew louder. It'd probably been there all the time, but Scout had probably ignored it somehow. _Beep!_ A second with silence. _Beep!_ Another second silence, before it beeped again. Why couldn't everyone just go away and leave him alone, it wasn't like he needed anyone.

Maybe they needed him. Yeah, that was probably it. Everybody missed him so much, and now they were crying themselves to sleep every night because of the lack of Scout on the BLU team. Yeah. And now Sniper and Medic was all worried of him never waking up again or whatever. He should wake up just to comfort them, as they wouldn't last a minute more without his presence.

The bright light from the lamp over him stung his eyes as he slowly opened them. He blinked hard a couple of times, trying to focus on the roof over him. Everything was blurry, but after some seconds, he started to see the shapes of the things around him.

He was lying on his back in a soft, quite wide bed with light blue bed sheets. On the left side of the bed, there was one of those thingies that measured heartbeats. What were they called again? Scout couldn't remember, but he didn't really care, either. It must've been that thing that made the beeping noise. A bunch of wires from it were attached to different places of his body, along with some other wires from other things on the right side of the bed. He was in some sort of hospital or something. His left arm was in a cast, same with his left leg. His head ached, and he had a severe pain in his back. Scout touched his left chin with his right hand. The wound was sewn shut. It'd probably leave a pretty badass scar, which would be freakin' awesome, as girls love scars.

Medic and Sniper were talking lowly about something that Scout couldn't hear, as they were standing in the other side of the room, near the door. They didn't pay any attention to him at all. _At freakin' all._ He was the hurt one; they were supposed to pay attention to _him,_ not everybody else. After some moments with thinking, he came up with the best plan ever. He moaned loudly, making him the centre of attention.

"So, you're awake," Sniper said, lighting a cigarette. He didn't even look at him. Medic looked annoyed at Sniper, as smoking was most likely prohibited in here, but for some reason, he didn't stop him. Scout felt that it annoyed him, that _that_ guy could just do whatever the hell he wanted, but when he tried to do anything fun before… this, everybody raged completely at him.

"Hey, doc," Scout said, completely ignoring the Aussie. "How are ya this fine… err… Mornin'?"

"I'm fine, zank you," Medic said, walking over to him, "and it is evening, by zee way."

"Ah, right. G'evenin', then."

Sniper sat down in the chair on Scout's left side without saying a word. Scout could feel him looking at him, but he didn't bother looking back. After all, all this was that stupid _bushman's_ fault. If it wasn't for him, Scout would be running outside now, maybe training his throwing arm.

"How are ya feelin', mate?" Sniper. Scout chose not to answer, instead he asked Medic about what had happened. He regretted it as soon as he had done it. The doctor started talking about bone fragments and stuff Scout had never heard about, so he just studied the cast on his left arm. It wasn't very interesting, but it was much more interesting than all the stuff the German was talking about. He snatched up some words, like "bone fragments" and "concussion" and something else. He didn't really care; all he wanted to do was to get out of here.

"So," he said, interrupting Medic in the middle of some medicinal stuff about brains, "when will I get outta here?"

"Didn't you hear vat I just said?" Medic looked irritated at him. "In a month, gife or take."

"A _month?"_ Scout couldn't believe his own ears. What the hell was he supposed to do here for an entire _month?_ "You're kiddin', aren't you, Doc?"

"Nein. After zis month, you get some strong painkillers; and you go home for a vile."

Home. That'd be nice. Scout really missed home. Especially since all his older brothers had moved out. Just he and his ma.

"Oh, and I've called your mutter, she said she'll be here in a couple of days to see how things are going."

Scout smiled widely. It'd been almost forever since the last time he'd seen her. In fact, he hadn't seen her before he left her for this war or whatever it was, and that was pretty long time ago. "Why can't you just use your Medi Gun or something?"

"I vould, but ve figured this vould be a nice lesson for you."

They _what?_ Figured it'd be a 'nice lesson'?

"What the hell, man?"

Sniper took over for Medic. "The team decided it'd be good for you to have a little time-out, and as you aren't dying, we figured this was a perfect opportunity."

"You _what?"_ Scout felt his blood getting filled with cold, rage-filled blood. "I really hope you guys are jokin', or I'm gunna kill ya'll."

"Yeah, right, mate. How are you planning on doing that?"

In a flash, Scout threw himself in Sniper's direction, planning to punch his freakin' ugly face in. It didn't work as he hoped. An intense pain spread in his back, as soon as he tried to sit a bit up. He gasped. He had experienced pain before, but this was stronger than he'd ever felt before.

"…fuck." He slowly lay down, crossing his arms. "You guys are unbelievable. Un-freakin'-believable."

"Looks like your medicines haf stopped working," Medic said, picking up some sort of syringe from the table on Scout's right hand side. He then proceeded to stab it in Scout's arm.

"Ow!" Scout yelled. "Don't put that stupid thing in me without warning me first, it freakin' hurt!" He pulled his arm to him. "Jeez. And could you _please_ turn down the lights a bit? My eyes hurt."

Medic did so. The darkness was relieving. "You should get some rest," he said, "but you shouldn't sleep zee first night. Zis is vy Sniper here'll keep you wis company, making sure everything goes as it should."

Brilliant. He'd been put in hospital by someone he thought was his friends "for his own good", he had broken bones and other things he didn't even know what meant, and now he had to stay up an entire night, because there was _no way_ he'd sleep when that freakin' bushman was watching him. He started to say against the German, but it was too late. He was already walking through the door.

"Oh, and by zee way, if zere's any problems, don't hesitate pulling zee red thread on zee wall over zere." He smiled a waved with three fingers. "Goodnight, fräuleins."


	3. Chapter 3

"Why don't you just go and screw yourself?" Scout did not seem very happy having to spend an entire night with Sniper watching over him. "I ain't gonna sleep as long as you're here, anyway."

"All right, mate, do as you like." Sniper leant back in the chair, lighting another cigarette. That damn kid could do whatever he'd like, if it weren't for Medic wanting him to watch over the damn kid, he'd be home taking a well-deserved nap in his fairly soft bed. He moved a bit in the wooden chair and took a puff from the cigarette.

"Put out that thing." Scout didn't even look at Sniper while saying this. He was lying on his back, but he'd turned his head so he looked away.

"I have no reason to," Sniper replied. He wasn't going to let the kid get his own way just like this. "Besides, I think I deserve this, after carrying you all the way from that bloody tower to this place."

"You've already had one today. I'm the sick one here, and I think I should be the one to decide."

"So it's the smoke that's annoying you?" Sniper stood up from the chair, and went over to the window. It squeaked when he opened it. Chilly night air blew in. "I'll just let it all out, then."

"But then it'll get cold. Close the freakin' window."

"I like the cold. And if you want me to do anything for you, you better learn to ask nicely first."

"You're a goddamn Australian. You're supposed to hate cold."

This made Sniper stop what he was doing. He walked calmly towards Scout, who was still trying to look away from the Aussie. The boy looked to the opposite direction as soon as Sniper came over to him. It didn't really bother him; he just crouched down and grabbed the boy's chin with one hand, and pulled his face over so he was looking directly in the boy's beautiful eyes.

_Beautiful_ eyes? What on earth was he thinking? But those eyes, which used to be filled with happiness and bit arrogance, were now filled with sadness and betrayal. It hurt to know that such a usually happy boy was reduced to this. A flow of guiltiness flew over Sniper as Scout tried to pull his head away from his grip. For some reason, he wanted to hug him. Hug him tight and tell him that he'd manage to get through this, he'd show them all.

"What the hell, dude?" Scout tried to sound angry, but the sadness in his eyes revealed him. Sniper pulled himself together and lowered his voice.

"Listen closely, mate, I'm only going to say this once." Sniper ignored Scout saying that he was _not_ Sniper's mate. "Who carried you the entire way from the bottom of that tower to this place while under enemy fire? I did. Who watched you while you were passed out? I did. Who volunteered to stay up all night, making sure an ungrateful, annoying brat like you are okay? _I did._ Now shut up for a moment, and get the rest you need."

"Not when _you're_ here. Besides, it's your fault I fell down from that freakin' tower!" Scout pulled himself from Sniper's grip and looked away. Sniper sighed and stood up. It _was_ his fault. If he hadn't lost control like he had, Scout would still be jumping happily around. If he hadn't agreed in the plan of teaching Scout a lesson this way, Medic would have healed him and he'd not been lying in that bed.

Another wave of guiltiness flowed over Sniper. He had to sit down. As he sat down in the uncomfortable, wooden chair, he heard Scout trying to cover up a yawn. Some moments later, he could hear the boy mumbling something about "not sleeping in front of that guy".

"Did you say anything?" Sniper asked silently.

The response was a quiet snore. Sniper couldn't resist smiling a bit when he heard it. Now he had two hours with peace until he had to wake up the boy to check if he was all right. He didn't know why he had to do so, but Medic had told him to, and when the German tells you to do something, you do it. You don't want to mess with the guy who saves your sorry butt out there, one day you may end up lying in a pond of your own blood, and if you're not friends with the Medic, you're in trouble. Respawning is not a very pleasant experience, and you really want to avoid that.

But for now, a moment of peace. He took a quick look at the digital watch which was placed on the nightstand right next to him. 1:27 AM. He tried not to yawn, but he was too tired not to. It was important for him to stay up, even though it'd been an extremely tiresome day. He leant back in the chair and rested his head on his arms. Two hours of rest. He deserved that.

"What the hell, man?" Scout didn't seem very happy to get waked up.

"I just did as Medic told me to. Checking if you were fine."

"I am fine. Jeez, I'm the finest person to exist! Now leave me the fuck alone."

Sniper sighed. "First I'll have to ask you some simple questions, to make sure you actually are fine."

"And then I get to sleep?" Scout looked angrily at Sniper.

"Yep." Sniper tried to remember all the questions Medic had made him ask the boy, but he could only remember three of them. "First question: Which team are you on?"

"What kind of question is _that?_ Look around, almost everything is some shade of blue." He put on an overdone thinking look. "I don't know man," Scout said sarcastically. "Perhaps RED, since everything is freakin' blue around here!"

"I guess that's good enough." Sniper just wanted to finish asking these stupid questions, and did not care if the answers were correct or whatnot. "Next question: What's your role on the team?"

"Bringing sexiness and handsomeness. The rest of you guys are so disgus-"

Sniper cut him off. "I'm not going to comment on that. Last question and I'll leave you alone."

"Fine. I'm freaking tired."

"I've noticed." Sniper was pretty tired, too. "Last question: Where are you from?"

"Boston. Can I go back to sleep now?"

Sniper nodded. "I'll wake you in two hours."

Scout groaned loudly. "Is this really necessary? I mean, you _are_ a douchebag and all that, but do you really feel a need to be even douchier to me?"

Sniper just ignored him. "Jus' go back to sleep," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "I'm doing what Medic tells me. That's all."

"Fine, whatever, man." Some moments later, Sniper could hear Scout's low snores as the boy fell asleep.

He looked at him, and got surprised of how fragile and peaceful he was looking. During day, he used to be so tough and bold, but now, covered up with a blanket, sleeping quietly, it looked like he'd break if someone touched him. Like porcelain. He felt like he needed a word to describe Scout, the way he was right now, but he couldn't come of anything.

Cute. That was the word.

_Cute?_ What was he thinking? This boy was in his twenties, it was creepy enough that he watched him sleep, and calling him _cute_ was a bit over the top.

But it was true. Scout was incredibly cute. And beautiful in a weird way. It hurt to look at the wound on his cheek, Sniper hated himself so much for ruining such a perfect being.

No. He couldn't keep thinking like this. He was too young for him, plus being a boy. He noticed a spot of drool on Scout's pillow. Usually, he'd been found it quite unpleasant, drooling was one of the things he disliked the most, but it felt so right. Of course Scout was drooling on a pillow while sleeping in a hospital bed after Sniper made him fall down from the towers, and the team decided to give him a lesson. Of course Sniper was looking at the drooling Scout, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Again he felt this urge of hugging the boy. Even though he could be an annoying little prick sometimes, he still didn't deserve this. Sniper had voted for this, but he regretted it so much now. Nobody deserved having their favourite thing getting taken from them like that. If someone just came and told Sniper he wouldn't be able to snipe for months, he'd probably get pretty upset, too. It was quite understandable that Scout had reacted the way that he had. That was one of the reasons he didn't just _wanted_ to, but _needed_ to hold him in his arms. He needed to say he was sorry in a proper way. But he had to wait until the time was right. No sudden waking someone up by hugging or anything related.

He lent back and tried to relax a bit before he had to wake up Scout once more.


	4. Chapter 4

_"Sniper."_

Sniper grumbled and moved a bit in his chair. He wasn't ready to wake up quite yet, as he'd been awake almost the entire night, waking up and asking a grumpy Scout stupid questions every second hour.

"Sniper?" Scout's unmistakable voice was barely audible through Sniper's dreams. He tried to ignore it.

"SNIPER!"

"What?!" Sniper replied loudly and annoyed. He had finally fallen asleep after asking the kid the last questions, which were answered with rude and selfish answers, and was absolutely not ready to wake up yet.

"You never closed the window. And now it's cold as Hell in here."

"You know, Hell's supposedly pretty hot." Sniper was not in the mood for discussing anything at all with the boy. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Close that freakin' window," Scout commanded him.

"No." He did not like to get commanded around, especially not by annoying little pricks like Scout, no matter how cute he was.

"It's cold, and I'm the one in the hospital bed here. Now close that window."

"I like it cold." Sniper tried as hard as he could to not look at the boy, who was probably sending him a mean look with his pretty, blue eyes. Or just straight out ignoring him. He was unsure what he preferred.

"Well, I like it warm, and since I'm the injured one, I think I should be the one to decide."

Sniper lit a cigarette. The first one in way too long. "You aren't the only one who got opinions, kid." He took a puff and ignored Scout angrily telling him that he wasn't a kid. "And taking in consideration that I'm the one who can walk around here…" He let the sentence hang a bit in the air before he continued. "I'm the one who get the last word. At least until you learn some manners."

"At least put out that damn cigarette." Scout coughed theatrically.

Sniper looked at the boy. "Nah." He took another puff and sighed lowly. Scout's eyes were exterminating the roll of paper and tobacco the Aussie held between his index and middle finger, not noticing that the older man was studying the wound on his cheek. It would most likely leave a scar. Sniper looked away from it and put his eyes on the ECG whose wires was connected Scout. It wasn't really necessary anymore, as the boy's heart rate was quite normal; at least that what he thought it seemed like it was. They'd both gotten used to the regular beeping from it.

He yawned. "Slept well?"

The boy didn't answer. No big surprise, really. Probably still mad at him. He sighed, leant back in the chair and relaxed for a while.

* * *

"Please don't smoke in zee hospital." Medic's voice pierced through the silence. It'd been a week since Scout got hospitalised. The boy seemed to have forgiven Sniper, and he was now talking freely to him, telling him stories about everything from baseball to girls. Sniper didn't really care about what Scout was talking about, but he enjoyed hearing the kid's happy voice. He was not really needed there, Scout was healthy enough to be alone, but he seemed to enjoy the company, so the Aussie was staying until the kid's mother came to pick him up, as he needed to have a break from the missions. Scout would sometimes tell about how his Ma made the best hot chocolate in the world.

He'd just lit his first cigarette that day, when Medic came to the room. Neither he or Scout had seen or heard him come in. Right behind the German, Heavy was standing, holding a poorly wrapped box. He was one of those who had voted against this entire let-Scout-heal-naturally-and-hopefully-he'll-learn -a-lesson-thing.

"Poor little man," the big man yelled, walking quickly over to the halfway sitting Scout and hugged him hard.

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow." The injured boy was in pain. "Heavy," he gasped. "My... Spine."

"Sorry!" The Russian let go and Scout fell backwards down on the bed, gasping for air. "I didn't mean to hurt you!"

"I'm... All right. Jus' let me catch my... Breath."

"I have something for you." Heavy said, giving the box to a very surprised Scout.

"For... For me?" He looked from the box to every person in the room. His eyes were wet with happy tears. Sniper'd never seen him like this before. He put out the cigarette and smiled a bit as he watched the young boy starting to clumsily remove the blue and white wrapping with shaky hands, one in a cast.

The wrapping was soon on the floor, as Scout was more of the type who ripped it off, not peeling the tape carefully off. A wide smile appeared on his face as he looked inside the box. He laughed with joy and pulled out a completely new iPod.

"How'd... Why did you... That..." Scout looked at Heavy while shaking his head slowly. "You didn't have to do this. How did you afford it?"

That was a pretty silly question, as everybody earned lots of money as mercenaries. Maybe Scout didn't know? Maybe he didn't get paid as much as the others? Sniper would have to remember to talk about salaries and money.

"I didn't want you to end up here," the big man said with a heavy Russian accent. "So I and the two others who didn't want you to do so bought this for you since we felt so sorry."

At this point, Scout was looking directly at Sniper. His suspicious look made his stomach feel like a stone.

"Oh," the boy said, "who were the other two?"

"Pyro and Demoman," Heavy replied. He talked a bit about what had happened and what they had discussed, but the words didn't make any sense to Sniper. The only thing in his world at this moment was Scout. He was looking at the Aussie with his lovely, blue eyes. They weren't angry or sad, only disappointed. The boy was shaking his head slowly, not in the happy way he had shaken it while opening the present, but in a sad, hurt way. It almost looked like he was going to cry, which made Sniper's heart shatter.

"Heavy," Sniper said kindly, "the boy needs rest, would you mind coming back later?"

Medic was going to say something, most likely that Heavy didn't have to leave, as Scout had gotten enough rest for some time, but a warning glance from Sniper made him understand what was going on.

"Ja. Ve should leave, Heavy."

Heavy nodded. "Get well, little man." He patted Scout's head, and left. Medic stayed a bit longer to remove most of the wires attached to Scout's body, explaining both him and Sniper that the boy's heart rate was normal, and it was no need to keep track of it anymore. He also laid a bunch of painkillers in Sniper's hand, telling him to give them to Scout only when he really needed them.

Then he left, leaving Sniper and Scout alone.

The silence, that had been so comfortable before Medic and Heavy had visited, was now awkward and tense. Sniper did not want to talk about this now, but he knew it was unavoidable.

"I had forgiven you."

The words were like punches in Sniper's stomach. He had no idea what he should do.

"Listen, kiddo," he said, only to get interrupted by Scout.

"I ain't a fucking kid, all right?" He tried to sound tough, but his voice cracked at the last words. Sniper didn't even need to look at Scout to know what was going on. The boy was crying.

"Scout, listen." Sniper desperately tried to get the boy's attention, but he was lying on the side, facing away from the Aussie. "Scout. Please."

"Go away. I don't want to talk with you."

"Then don't talk back. Just let me explain, all right?"

"Will you leave after you've done so?"

Sniper did not really want to answer. He wasn't going to leave Scout. Not like this. But he had no choice but to reply "yeah".

"Go on, then."

The Australian took a deep breath. He knew it was best just to jump in it, but it was so difficult to find the correct words. "All right. You know after you fell from the tower-"

"You mean, after _you made me_ fall from the tower?" Scout interrupted.

Sniper continued without caring about the interruption. "I carried you all the way back to the base, even though we were under enemy fire. You were very injured, broken bones everywhere, but you weren't dead. If you had died, you'd respawn with the back injury, due to some sort of mistake in the system, and you'd most likely become paralyzed from your waist. At least that's what Medic said." He took a break to make that point even more clear. "I don't really know if that'd happen, I don't know much about the respawning system, and it's too complex for me to bother investigating, but as we all know, respawning is not a pleasant experience.

"Anyway, when I got you to safety, I went out to find Medic, who was on the bloody opposite side of the map. I got him back here, and he started healing your worst injuries when Engineer thought it was a good idea to let you heal by yourself, and let someone teach you some manners. I know for a fact that _someone_ was messing around with his things the day before."

Scout did not reply.

"We voted, and that point, I thought it was a good idea, so I..." He sighed, not wanting to continue. "I voted for."

"For some reason, I ain't surprised." Scout's voice was cold.

"I've regretted it ever since. You're supposed to be running, be happy, not lie here in a bed all day. I've tried to talk with the others, but they didn't listen." He took a drink from the glass of water he had gotten earlier, put it down and looked at Scout, who now was sitting and watching him, directly in his eyes. "I know it doesn't help, but I am sorry. I'll leave now."

He got up, picked up his hat and sunglasses from the little table and started to walk towards the door.

"No. Don't." Scout's voice made him stop. "I don't wanna be alone."

Sniper turned surprised around. Tears was still running down on the boy's cheeks, but he was smiling a sad smile at the same time. The Aussie walked over to him, and sat down on the bedside.

"I just..." Scout had a hard time finding the right words to use, but Sniper was a patient man. "I just don't get it."

"Get what?"

"Why don't..." He sobbed. "Why doesn't anybody like me?"

"What do you mean? Of course we like you."

"I've been here for a week, Sniper." The boy was more determined now. "So far, Heavy's been the only one to visit me. Not even... Not even Ma has been here."

Sniper laid his hand on Scout's without really thinking, but the boy didn't seem to care. He was just looking the Australian man deep in his eyes. Then he closed them and turned his head away.

The next moment, Scout was in Sniper's arms. In the beginning, he was stiff and resisted the hug, but after some time he got more relaxed and hugged back. The boy smelled like medicines and hospital. He buried his head in the older man's chest, breathing slowly.

"This is going to be all right," Sniper whispered to the youngster. "I'm going to call your mother and make sure she'll be here as soon as possible, okay?"

"Okay."

Scout let go and looked Sniper in his eyes again. "Thanks."

"No problem, mate."

Scout hugged him again, and they sat like this until Sniper had to leave for a mission, but he promised to come back as soon as possible. A little smile was on Scout's lips as Sniper closed the door.

"See you later, Snipes."


	5. Chapter 5

Being badly injured equals having to lie in bed all day.

Having to lie in bed all day equals not being able to do anything.

Not being able to do anything equals boredom.

Conclusion: Scout was bored.

He'd never been this bored before. Once, while he still was going to school, he had taken a test and left the classroom because it was so boring. But this was even more boring, and he was unable to leave the room.

Scout sat up, causing his back to hurt a bit. He wondered what was wrong with it, has he hadn't paid any attention at all when Medic had explained it. Maybe he should ask again? Meh, he was not very enthusiastic to hear another speech about medicine and bones and whatever. He groaned. Something inside him made him miss having Sniper there. Sure, the guy was a freakin' moron and traitor, but at least he had _been here,_ and that's more than you could say about everybody else, except Heavy.

He looked at the iPod he had received. It was one of the first gifts he had ever gotten, and the most expensive. The only problem was, _there wasn't any music on it,_ so it wasn't much help to chase away the restlessness. It was a nice gift, though; he should ask Sniper if he could help him getting any music on it. Or not, as he hated asking people for help. It made him feel stupid and helpless. He somehow managed to put the iPod back to on the tiny table on his side without twisting his back too much.

An inpatient sound slipped through his lips. He hit the bed with his good arm, causing nothing at all to happen. How could it be possible to be this unimaginably bored? He'd been quite bored the past week, but at least he had had Sniper there most of the time, and when he wasn't there, Scout had slept. It had been a nice routine, sleeping when Sniper was out shooting people, and ignoring the shit out of him when he was here. In the start, that was. He hadn't liked the older man very much after the tower accident, but the latest days he'd been pretty cool. In fact, he'd been cool enough to deserve hearing Scout's awesome stories. But he wasn't here now, so it didn't help much.

An idea popped up in his mind. Medic had told him if he needed anything, he could just pull that red thread right next to him. Right now he needed attention and entertainment. He reached for the thread, but hesitated right before pulling it. Medic would probably flip totally out at him, and that'd be pretty uncool. But on the other hand, entertainment is entertainment.

Scout pulled the thread and waited a couple of minutes before Medic came rushing into his room, almost covered in blood. He hoped it wasn't Sniper's, but who knew? Maybe some Spy had discovered the sharpshooter's location, cloaked and backstabbed him. Or maybe a Soldier had blasted him to pieces with one of his big rockets?

Why was he even thinking of that? A knot of dread and fright filled his stomach.

"Whas wrong?" He was breathing heavily, as he'd probably been out healing someone on the battlefield when he'd gotten the call from the thread. How did that even work, how could he just know when somebody needed him when he was so far away from them?

"'ey, doctor," Scout said, crossing his arms and smiling a crooked smile. "How're ya 'dis beautiful day?"

"I asked whas wrong." The German seemed annoyed.

"Ah, right." Scout was cool. Very cool. "The thing is, I'm frickin' bored."

"_Bored? You called me because you were BORED?"_

"Yeah, I did." Even though he was getting yelled at, he managed to keep cool and keep his smile in place.

"I was in zee _middle of a war_, Scout." Medic's face was two inches away from Scout's. Scout could feel the tiny drops of spit hitting him as the doctor was yelling straight in his face, wiping away his handsome smile. "I still am! They _need me out zhere_!"

"Well, I need something to entertain me in _zhere,"_ Scout said, imitating Medic's accent. "And get out of my face, you ugl-" For a change, he stopped talking before he said something he would regret later on.

Medic left the room without any explanations. A moment later he was back, carrying some paper and a bunch of crayons, which he threw down at Scout's lap.

"If you _ever_ call me wizhout a good reason again," the angry man threatened, "I'll make sure you won't be able to do it_ ever again."_ He left the room, slamming the door violently behind him.

"Jeez, dude," Scout said lowly, rolling his eyes. He picked up a crayon. It was red, one of the few red things in the room, a nice contrast to all the blueness. He had no pleasant memories connected to that colour, though, nothing but blood and death. And that damn RED team, of course. The crayon crumbled a bit when he put it down, colouring a bit of the blanket light red. The next crayon he picked up was green, almost like Sniper's eyes.

…Almost like _what?_ That was a weird comparison, out of nowhere. Scout frowned, studying the green crayon. _Grass green._ Wow, that was as original and creative as orange juice or something. They should make some new colours with better names, like _vomit green_ and _toenail grey_. In fact, they should just put him as the new boss in the crayon industry, as he had much better names for the colours than the lame wannabe names that already was.

Using the green crayon, he scribbled down some neat crayon colour names.

_Snot yellow  
Vomit Green  
Toenail Grey  
Bruise purple  
I'm-so-tired-of-hospitals blue  
Extraordinary green white  
Scout blue  
Emo black  
Kvlt black  
RED red  
BLU blue  
Midget orange_

The last one made him chuckle. _Midget orange._ It was brilliant. He couldn't wait to show and tell Sniper about this.

Sniper. For some reason the image of him sitting right next to the bed was popped up in Scout's mind, making him smile. He put away the crayons and paper, and closed his eyes, imagining the Australian's green eyes. For some reason, it made his stomach tingle like crazy. Almost like he was in love-

Oh, no. No. Nonono. Nope. Absolutely not. He opened his eyes. What the fuck was he doing? What the _fuck_ was he _thinking?_ He wasn't gay or anything, so there was no reason for him to get this attracted to Sniper. At all. Besides, he was, like, old enough to be his father or something. It would be messed up if he fell in love with him for some reason. It was probably just some sort of mistake. A bio-whatever-it-was-called mistake. He laughed lowly, suddenly finding this entire thing funny for some reason. Yeah, it was just a mistake. There was this really hot chick in his neighbourhood back in Boston, and she was not a mistake. Not at all. Or maybe she was, Scout didn't really know, but in his eyes, she was not.

He closed his eyes, thinking of the time the girl, whose name was impossible to remember at the moment, had run past his house, hair flowing beautifully in the wind.

He approached her, finally working up the courage to talk to her. Moments seemed like hours as he waited for her reaction, until she finally turned to him. It was the moment Scout had waited for all his life, and it was finally happening. Although, the face he saw was not that of the girl. Scout froze in fear as the masculine features of the "girl" were revealed to him. Again, minutes felt like hours to the mercenary, before the being before him finally spoke. With a seemingly endless cry of "WANKA", Scout was snapped out of his fantasy.

…What the hell? Couldn't just Sniper leave his thoughts alone?

He tried again, thinking of this pretty girl, but it didn't really go better this time.  
Scout finally fell asleep, thinking of Sniper's beautiful, green eyes.

* * *

Something warm was lying on Scout's right hand. He slowly opened his eyes. The room was dark, so it was probably in the middle of the night. Sniper was most likely done with the mission, as he was sleeping soundly in the chair right next to him, snoring lowly. Scout looked at his hand, not surprised to see the older man's hand lying on the top of it. If it had belonged to anybody else than Sniper, he'd probably yell "faggot" or something, and hit him in the face.

But this was Sniper, making it feel so right. The skin on his hand was rough, unlike the skin on Scout's, which was, well, not soft, but not really rough either, as they usually were wrapped up in the bondages which were now lying on a shelf on the other side of the room. It was impossible not to smile, lying there, looking at the Aussie. He didn't look half bad, after all. Not as good as Scout, though, but that was as good as impossible. A part of his brain tried to stop him from thinking like this, stop him from thinking of Sniper in this way, but he didn't want to stop. It was what felt right at the moment, and he always did what felt right.

He wanted to turn his hand around and hold Sniper's, but it'd most likely wake up the sleeping man, and that'd probably be pretty awkward. Instead, he moved a tiny bit closer him, close enough to hear his breath, and fell asleep again.

When Scout woke up again in the morning, Sniper was sitting next to the open window, smoking a cigarette. The curtains wooshed as the wind blew through the window, sending a cold chill through the room. A temptation to yell at Sniper, making him shut the damn window, suddenly appeared. Instead of doing that, he decided to lie completely still, pretending to still be asleep and see what Sniper was doing. Right now, he was sitting and looking out of the window, a dark silhouette against the bright light from the sun. The smoke didn't really get pulled out the window; it was hanging in the air like a grey cloud around the smoker. He moved a bit, making Scout quickly close his eyes in case he was going to walk over to the bed. Which he did. The shoes on the Australian's feet made a clacking sound against the floor when he walked over to the boy who was pretending to be asleep. Scout took deep breaths, trying to copy what he thought he was doing when he was asleep.

He felt a light touch on his left cheek, over his wound, sending chills down his spine. It was difficult to keep his eyes closed, he wanted to open them and look at Sniper, but he had to keep quiet and still. How could Sniper think he would sleep through this? Like, seriously? He was planning on opening his eyes and scare the living shit out of him when he felt the other man's head closing up to his. What was he doing?

Scout almost forgot how to breathe when he felt the touch of lips against his forehead. He didn't, but instead he forgot to lie still. Sniper quickly hurried away when the boy moved a bit, but not more than a sleeping person would have done. Luckily, Sniper hadn't understood that he was just pretending.

Sniper had _kissed his forehead_. Scout's stomach was going crazy, sending fuzzy feelings and happiness through his entire body. He wanted to laugh, smile and run around or something, just do anything, as his body was filled with energy. Anything!

What if he had just turned his head against where he thought Sniper was, opened his eyes and said "hey" in the chillest way ever? It'd be awesome to see his reaction, his heart would probably stop for a split second, and he'd fall of his chair, and then they'd both laugh. Or Sniper would have left the room and not come back. It was probably best to lie still for a bit longer before he "woke up", so he somehow managed to lie still for five minutes, before he was unable to do it anymore. He slowly opened his eyes, yawned and stretched, like he was waking up.

"G'mornin', Snipes." Keeping calm was the biggest problem while talking. His body was filled with energy, both from what had just happened, and the fact that he'd been lying in bed for a goddamn week. "How're ya 'dis fine mornin'?"

"I'm fine." Grumpy as always. Jeez, it wasn't like it was impossible to smile, even if it was pretty early. To show how easy it was, Scout did it himself, not a wide smile, but the same self-sure smile he'd smiled to Medic yesterday.

"You won't _believe_ what I dreamed tonight," he said, a brilliant plan emerging in his mind.

"Won't I?"

"No, it was some of the weirdest shit ever. Like, seriously."

"You're gonna tell it, or what?"

"Yeah, I am." Scout cleared his throat. This was the best thing he'd ever thought of. "Okay, so I was, like, runnin' around outdoors, like I usually – I mean, _used to_ – do, when I saw this really cute chick, right, and I walked over to her, just like that."

"You walked over to her, and…?"

"I walked over to her, and she turned to me, almost as hot as me, and then…" He took a dramatic pause.

"And…?"

"She kissed me on the forehead. It felt so real, almost like someone was kissing it in real life." It was difficult not chuckling while telling this story, as Sniper's look was indescribable.  
"But that's just ridiculous, right," he continued, putting up a pondering look, "I mean, who the hell could kiss me just like that without you noticing? Unless…" He looked with suspicion at the other mercenary.

"Unless…?" He had the straightest poker face Scout had ever seen.

"Nah, nothing, I was just thinking loudly." Scout bit his lip to prevent laughing at the look at the other man's face.

"Ai'ght, then, so you slept well?" How could anyone have a so expressionless face like this?

"Yeah, I did. Oh, and Sniper, I have something to show you!"

"What?"

Scout picked up the paper where he'd written the colour names the past day. It was always fun to show off things he'd done or made, this being no exception. He cleared his throat to make the whole thing sound even cooler.

"All right, so I was soooo bored yesterday, right, so I called Medic, who got really mad at me, I don't really see why, I mean Jesus Christ, he told me to call if I needed anything and that was exactly what I did, I was so bored and-"

"_Scout."_

"Oh, right. Okay, anyway, I got some crayons, right, and I saw how horribly boring the names they had, so I made some new ones."

Sniper raised a brow. "New ones."

"Yeah! My names are so much better than the old ones, I mean _grass green_? Who the hell calls a colour _grass green?_ I think the world needs colours like_ Snot Yellow. _Or _Bruise Purple._"

"_Snot Yellow?_" Sniper laughed sarcastically. "You're kidding, right?"

"Uh, no, I'm not." He sent Sniper a hurt look just to make him feel a bit guilty before he continued. "_Emo Black _and _Kvlt Black._"

"What's the difference? Aren't both… Black?"  
"Yeah, that's the awesome thing! You see, one of them is, well, emo, and the other one is kvlt."

"Uh… Huh."

"What about this? _Extraordinary Green White. _It'll confuse the shit out of everybody." He smiled widely before he continued. Sniper seemed bored, but he didn't care, this was some of the most entertaining things he'd done lately, and he really felt like talking. "_RED red, BLU blue_."

"Wow. Original."

"Shut up, I'm almost done. _Midget Orange._"

"_Midget Orange. _I think that's enough thinking for you for a long time. It doesn't look healthy for you."

"It ain't. That's why I try to avoid doing it." He hit himself in his head to prove the point. "Anyway, how did the mission go?" Scout put away the paper and looked interested at Sniper.

"We lost." He didn't really seem to care.

"Yeah, no big surprise, really, as I wasn't there."

Sniper looked at him with a very serious face. "You're right," he said, frowning. "We need you at the team. We've been talking about healing you."

Oh, so now they wanted him back. Because they lost their missions? _Because they lost their fucking missions?_

"So you wan' me back 'cuz you keep losin'?" He sat up, and raised his voice. "Too bad. I ain't comin' back before I've healed completely, _by my fucking self._"

To his surprise, Sniper was smiling. "Pretty much as I thought."

"As you thought?!" It was some time he'd been able to yell at someone, and it felt pretty good at the moment. "AS YOU THOUGHT?! Wow, dude, you, like, know me soooo damn well! Whoooaaaa!"

"There's no need to be upset," the Australian said calmly, "we aren't going to heal you if you don't want to."

"Whoa, thanks, man, I appreciate it." Scout's voice was floating in sarcasm. The bed made a squeaking noise as he leant back again. "If they wanted me to heal myself, I am frickin' going to heal myself."

Sniper was going to say something, but got interrupted by a knock on the door, so he went and opened it instead. Scout tried to see who it was, but it was difficult as he was lying in a stupid angle for seeing what was on the other side of the door, as the door itself was blocking the view. The blanket and the pain in his back made it hard to turn so he could see, too, as the blanket was just plain out retarded and kept wrapping around him. It wasn't really tempting to throw it away, though, as the hospital patient dress thing he was forced to wear was horrible and showed a bit more than he wanted to.

Finally, the person on the other side of the door was let into the room. Scout's mouth was transformed to a smile from ear to ear when he saw who it was.


	6. Chapter 6

As the door opened, Sniper could see the woman standing on the other side. She was wearing a blue dress, with her black hair set up. Most likely Scout's mother, as there was rarely females around these parts, except Miss Pauling now and then. They talked a bit about the boy's condition, but he avoided telling her about the part where he cut Scout and where they decided to not heal him, as it'd probably cause quite an outrage, before letting her into the room. He was unsure whether to stay or leave, so he stood a bit in the open door, before hearing Scout mention him.

"Ma, 'tis's Snipes, he's been keepin' me with company while I've been here."

Sniper turned around. "G'day." He nodded and tipped his hat. "How are you, ma'am?" Just a formality, of course, but Scout's mother didn't seem to recognize it as that.

"My poor baby is in hospital, how do you _think_ I am?"

"Hm, good point you got there." Sniper walked to the chair by the window, as the lady was using the chair by the bed, holding a bit embarrassed Scout's hand tightly.

"Maaa, calm down, it ain't _all his_ fault," Scout said jokingly. "'Dis baby here on my cheek may be, but…"

_Scout, what the bloody hell are you doing?__  
_He resisted the urge to turn around and interrupt him; instead, he lit yet another cigarette. It'd probably be a good idea to cut a bit down on them, but at the moment, he really needed it. It was Scout who was having a visitor, so he should be the one talking. If he kept interrupting, it wouldn't put him in a very good light. But the kid could be a bit more careful of what he was saying. In the corner of his eye, he could see Scout's mother get up, but he kept calm and lent back in the chair.

"…hey, it's a'ight, Ma, it looks frickin' badass!"

"_Did you cut my son?"_Her voice was furious. Sniper looked quietly up at her while blowing out some grey smoke. "Technically," he said without either lowering or raising his voice, "I did."

Scout's mother took a step forward, starting to say something, but Sniper interrupted her. "Listen, ma'am, we've talked about it. There's no need to-"

His head got slapped to the side before he got any time to react. For some reason, his mind noticed a lone, green crayon lying right next to the wall; it'd probably fallen down from the nightstand where the other crayons were. A couple of swears slid through his lips as he felt his right cheek burn in pain and humiliation. He touched it with cold fingers as he slowly turned around to face the woman, keeping calm. Very calm. Getting hit was no problem, but getting hit like this, without even being able to finish what he was saying.

"Fine, I'll leave you alone," he said, getting up from the chair while readjusting his glasses, which had fallen halfway off when he got hit. "Talk to you later, Scout." Scout mother was saying something rude to him, but he closed her out, so the only thing he heard was Scout's "See ya, Snipes" as he closed the door behind him.

The hall outside of the room was quite small, as the hospital was just a small part of the base. The walls were mint green, maybe someone had thought it was a happy colour or something, but instead it ended up looking sick and, well, hospital-like. There were three doors on both the long sides, and one in the end. He slowly walked down the hall, towards the last door. It went directly out, letting him exit the entire base without having to go through the entire building.

Right on the other side of the door, there were a couple of benches placed up to the wall. An open window was placed near the corner of it. As he sat down in the left bench, which squeaked loudly, Scout's mother closed the window. He smiled and nodded politely to her, even though he was still a bit mad at her for hitting him. She flat-out ignored him. The bench was even more uncomfortable than the chair in Scout's room, but it was probably best to leave him alone with his mother for now, so the bench was the best choice. Maybe he could go out for some time, but he didn't want the boy to leave while he was gone, as he was going home to his mother for some time, and it'd be horrible to not say goodbye to him, even though it was just for a month.

This let-him-heal-himself-thing was a horrible idea. It had always been, and would always be. Why had he even voted for? He had no reason to, the kid was pretty annoying from time to time, and a bit too stubborn and overly brave sometimes, but he did have his moments with brilliance. In fact, the way he was acted quite interesting, such an opposite to his own personality. He was pretty darn cute too, and he had to admit, his speed and double jumping was quite amazing. Scout was meant to be running; it was his call in life. What would happen if he became permanently paralyzed? Medic could easily heal injuries that weren't permanent, but as soon as they crossed the line, they were unhealable, like his scars. If the boy got paralyzed, they would probably not notice before it was too late, and then…

Then he'd been stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Just the thought of that made Sniper's heart ache. The once happily running kid, sitting in a wheelchair, not able to feel the wind whooshing through his short hair as his lungs and muscles hurt from the need of oxygen, and his heart beating so hard he could feel it. Not able to jump, play baseball or fight properly. Most likely not able to smile anymore.

For some reason, it wasn't hard to imagine Scout sitting in that grey wheelchair, placed in the corner of the room so he wasn't in the way for anybody. Just a shadow of himself, not really caring where he was placed, as his life had been completely messed up, he'd lost the things he loved to do for the rest of his life. The thoughts led Sniper to new and even darker and depressing thoughts, finally ending with the paralyzed wheeling his way up to a cliff, to the very edge of it. He looked down at the water far down there, if the fall didn't do it, the big pointy rocks would probably fix it. The wind blew his hat off, revealing his face, which was determined, but scared. Then he wheeled a bit forward, tipped over…

_Snap!_

Noise!

He turned quickly around to the side he'd heard the noise come from. After years with sniping, he'd learned to be careful around noises, both not making them himself, but it was even more important to be aware of the others. If you weren't, you'd probably end up lying on the ground with a knife in your back. Dead. Every sense he got was searching for the source of the sound, eyes flashing around, searching movement.

After about a half minute, he decided it was probably nothing, but it was best to be careful, so he leant against the wall behind him. He chuckled. This was just stupid; there were no RED spies around here, why should it be? There weren't any missions going on at the monment, the Frenchman was probably off buying some fancy cigarettes or something during this break. Not closing out the outside world as much as he'd done earlier, he went back to his thoughts. This time, he managed to not think of Scout at all; instead, he dreamt of sitting against his van out in a bush, it was dark and a campfire was cracking happily, casting a cosy glow over everything near it, including him and Scout, who was sleeping with his head in the Australian's lap.

There was that damn kid again. Was it that hard to leave his thoughts alone for just one moment?

_Squeeeak._

This time, the noise was right next to him, and he felt the entire bench move, like somebody sat down on it. In one motion, he turned around and hit the air on his left side in one motion.

"Oof."

He'd hit somebody, and he knew who it was. The thought was difficult to believe, but there was only one answer.

"I know yer there, so you might as well show yourself."

After some time, a red shape started emerging, slowly forming a mastked man in suit who was sitting a bit closer than Sniper's liking.

"Bonjour, Sniper." The RED Spy pulled out a shiny cigarette case from a pocket. He opened it, got a cigarette and lit it.

"Spy." Sniper wished he'd brought his own pack, it wasn't as fancy as the case, but Hell, he felt like having a cigarette right now.

"How are we this wonderful evening?"

"Why are you here?" He had been backstabbed more than enough times to not trust the RED Spy.

"Ohh, grumpy, are we?"

Sniper didn't even look at him. The Spy was not welcome here. Not at all. He leant even closer to the wall behind him, making sure there were no back left unprotected.

"Answer my question."

"Ah, your questiòn." He took a puff from his cigarette. Sniper couldn't resist looking at it, wishing he had one for himself. He clenched his fist. "I'm accompanying _mon amour._"

"Yer what?" Stupid French words, he probably said them just to annoy him with his fancy-pantcy language.

Spy looked at him, smiling a smile that creeped Sniper a bit. "Ah, what is it called in your horribly brutal language? Ah, yes. It's called "girlfriend", no?"

Girlfriend? There were no girls here, were there? Except...

Through the window he could hear Scout yell something. He couldn't hear what was said, but his voice was filled with disappointment and rage. A moment later, he could hear his mother yell back at him.

"You don't mean..."

"Oui." The Frenchman leant towards Sniper. He was now close enough for Sniper to feel his breath on his face. Uncomfortably close. It was impossible to lean more backwards, so he moved his head to the side. The smile on Spy's face was wide and surperiour. "The little bunny's mother."

_"YOU CAN JUST GO FUCK YOURSELF!"_The yell was so sudden and loud they both started a bit. It was horrible listening to the shouting and fighting between Scout and his mother. He had to force himself not to run in and break it up.

"Ze boy got some temperament, doesn't he?" Spy had moved away from Sniper now, who was still a bit concerned over the unknown reason behind the sudden closeup.

"He does," he replied shortly, not really wanting to talk with him anymore.

"Ooohh, the bushman is upset that his _compain_ is fighting with my_copine,_no?"

"Could you _please_ stop randomly putting those damn French words in yer sentences when yer talking?"

Spy just smiled mysteriously. The fight inside was still going on, but it sounded like they were finishing. Scout's mother was starting to sound hysterical, it was clear that she was crying. Her son just sounded really mad at her. Really, really mad.

"Non."

"Then shut up."

They sat in silence for a while. Spy finally finished his smoke. He flicked it down at the ground, before leaning over towards the other man again.

"Ze boy's going home today, isn't he?"

"That's the plan."

"For how long?"

"A month, I think."

"A month," Spy repeated. "Do you _really _think he'll come back?"

Sniper felt uneasy. Spy was right. Scout had no reason to come back, not after what had happened. They had betrayed him. He had betrayed him. Scout had followed him because he wanted to be his friend, because he thought he was the only person worth spending time with, and how had he responded to it?  
He had cut him and made him fall from a tower. And as if that weren't enough, he'd also voted for not healing him.

He would never see Scout again. The realization made his stomach feel like stone. Never again. That was a pretty long time. Of course, he _could_ visit him, but it wouldn't be the same, not at all. He'd miss the kiddo's comments, his horrible jokes and exaggerated stories. He'd miss his boldness, reckless and foolhardiness. He'd miss him.

"'Course he's coming back," he said, not believing his own words. This was exactly what Spy wanted, making him feel this way, putting these thoughts in his mind, but he couldn't control it. He wanted to run straight back him and tell that woman to not take Scout away from him. Then he'd tell him about how he felt about him, without caring how the boy would react. "He's a team player."

Spy just laughed.

The fighting had stopped by this point, and a moment later the door opened. A very upset mother stepped out, slamming the door behind her. A tiny hope appeared within Sniper when he noticed that no Scout was with her. Spy jumped up and took her arm. "Let's go home, shall we?"

Scout's mother casted a quick glimpse at Sniper before she nodded. They walked away, heads high and arrogant, leaving the Australian alone at the bench. He decided to try and wait a bit before going back in to Scout, he probably needed some time alone.

Two minutes later he was sitting on the edge of Scout's bed, hearing him tell about what had just happened. Most of it was things he already knew, like that Spy was "banging his mother". The boy told it with an expressionless face, like he didn't care at all, but it was hard to believe. He didn't comment on it, though, as there weren't any reason for making him more upset than he already was.

Then Scout looked at him with blank eyes and took a deep breath.

"I guess I ain't leaving, then."

_**((A/N: I can't speak French, so if there's any mistakes in the little French Spy says, that's why.))**_


	7. Chapter 7

This bed was one of the most uncomfortable beds Scout had ever tried to sleep in. It wasn't even a real bed, more a provisory solution made out of a tiny couch, as the real bed was occupied by Sniper. He wished he hadn't commented how difficult it would be for him to climb up to it, the tiny alcove over the cockpit of the van, with both left arm and leg in casts, plus the back injury. If he hadn't, he'd probably been sleeping as soundly as the older man in a comfortable bed.

He changed position. It was impossible to sleep, for some reason his body was filled with all the energy he should have had when he was in hospital. It was like the atmosphere there had put a lid on it, but now that he wasn't there, all of it came back. Plus the energy he hadn't used for a week. Oh, and there were probably some stuff in those syringes Medic had stabbed in his arm twice a day, too, that calmed him down.

Ignoring the sharp pain in his back when he moved, he turned again. He was now lying on his left side, left arm placed in an awkward position above his head, facing the wall. Falling asleep shouldn't have been this hard. It was not just his energy that kept him awake; the temperature in the tiny van was way too high. He could have opened a window, but to do that he had to sit up, and his back hurt quite bad just when he moved, so he didn't take the risk. Instead, he tried to place his blanket so it barely covered his bare back; if he took it completely off he'd feel way too exposed, lying there in only his underwear.

Sniper snored loudly, annoying Scout way too much. Of all annoying sounds he knew about, snoring would be at least somewhere in top three, along with baby screams and the RED Spy's voice. God, he hated that man. So that stupid Frenchman thought he could just go ahead and bang Scout's mother without any consequences? He'd never been so wrong his entire, miserable, stupid life of his. After Scout was finished with him, that Spy would never be able to do anything with any woman ever again. He smiled evilly at the thought. Just wait and see, Spy, after he got out of these damn casts...

ZRRROH-RRRKKH!

Why? Why did he have to share the van with a guy who couldn't stop disturbing him in his quest for sleep? He knew the answer, but at the moment it didn't really help much.

Long story short, he'd decided to not go home after all, there was no way he was sharing house with his mother after what she'd done, therefore, he needed a place to stay, as it was unnecessary for him to stay in the hospital any longer, plus Medic was pretty tired of taking care of him. Sniper had suggested that he could stay in his van, and after a clumsy trip in a horribly shaky wheelchair, as Scout was unable to use crutches with an arm in a cast, they were soon eating a quick dinner in the tiny van before going to bed. He had suggested that he stayed in his own room in the fort, but he apparently needed someone around in case something happened.

The entire van smelled like a mix of smoke, sweat, coffee, gunpowder, aftershave and some other things Scout couldn't identify. The van smelled like Sniper, and he loved it. Even better, the bed he was lying in smelled like the Australian, which made his entire body tingle like crazy. Even the pillow and the blanket had the same odour, making him feel safe, like the other man watched over him. Not that he needed someone to do that, of course, but was a nice feel that someone cared enough to do it, even when they didn't know it themselves.

The happiness he got from knowing that he was lying almost next to the sleeping Sniper made him not notice that the pain in his back had grown stronger, before it was too late. An explosion of pain filled his body. The pain was strongest in a certain point in his back, but his arm and leg hurt too, as well as his entire body. He desperately tried to scream, but for no use, he was unable to get enough air for it. He was like a fish on land, gasping desperately for air, without getting any.

The pain didn't stop. His brain didn't work properly, he was unable to think, the only thing in the world right now was intense pain, worse than anything he'd ever felt before. Worse than respawning, worse than getting blown to pieces, getting shot, getting beat up or even feeling his flesh slowly melt as he got burned to death. His eyes got filled with tears, making it impossible to see. There was no way for him to make enough sound to wake Sniper besides screaming, so he tried again, but for no use. He had barely enough lung capacity to do this horrible version of breathing, yet alone to scream.

"Please," he whispered, unable to raise his voice more. For the first time in his life, he begged. He begged to every god he knew, whether he believed in them or not, for the pain to stop. He'd do anything for them. Anything. But for no use. It only got even a bit stronger, like they were mocking him.

He had to wake Sniper. It hurt to take a breath as deep as the one he was taking right now, but it didn't matter. Then he screamed. Louder than he'd ever screamed before, a scream filled with pain and desperation. He kept screaming and screaming, now that he had started doing it, it was hard to stop. Instead of taking breaths between, he sobbed loudly, tears running down his face. Later he'd probably feel ashamed for acting like this, but at this moment, he couldn't have cared less.

It was like he was at the bottom of a well, the walls made out of pure pain and fear. Somewhere, far up there, he could hear someone desperately throwing things around in search of something. Most likely Sniper. Suddenly, he got the sensation of falling uncontrollably again. This time, he didn't enjoy it like the time when he had passed out, this time, he was terrified. Who knew what was in the bottom? Maybe death. Maybe a life in wheelchair.

"I don't want to die," Scout yelled, without thinking over it. "Please! I don't want to!" He kept yelling those words, mostly "please" and "don't want to". Sometimes, he yelled for his mother, begging and crying like a baby. Far away, he could hear a soft, deep voice repeating it would be okay, everything would be fine, but he didn't believe it. The pain would never stop; it would be there forever, making him wish for death. "Please," he sobbed, "please."

The sting in his arm was so small compared to the pain he was experiencing that he didn't notice it. Some moments later, it was like someone had put a lid on it. It was still strong, but not as sharp and horrible as it'd been earlier. He still cried and gasped for air, but instead of yelling and screaming, he moaned. The pain kept weakening, soon it was just a shadow of itself, leaving Scout crying and shaking in shock and fear.

"Shh," Sniper whispered, wrapping his bare arms around him, holding him tight. "Shh. It's over now."

Scout was still shaking. He held around the other man as hard as he could while burying his face in his chest. Sniper's big hands were stroking him on his back, comforting him as he slowly calmed down.

Was this the time to tell him? Or would it scare him away? Maybe he was homophobic or something, and would throw him out.

He decided to wait. Right now, he was happy just sitting there, safe in Sniper's strong arms, slowly calming down and trying to breathe in the same pace as him. He was starting to feel tired for some reason, his head started to feel heavy and it was difficult to keep his eyes open. Sniper loosened his grip a bit, like he was letting Scout go. But Scout just hugged him tighter, not willing to end the hug, not yet. So they sat there for a minute before he finally let go.

Sniper grabbed his shoulder and looked at Scout with concerned eyes. "Y'all right, mate?"

Scout nodded. He wondered what it had been in that medicine he got, but it was probably for the best to not know. Who knew what kind of stuff people put in those things.

"Sure?"

He nodded again. It was weird hearing Sniper being so concerned about somebody; he usually kept his feelings for himself. At that point he was Scout's complete opposite, as he tended to show off his entire spectrum of emotions, except for when he was feeling sad. Crying in front of someone was one of the worst things he knew about, as crying was for the weak. He wasn't weak.

They just sat there for a while, Scout in underwear, Sniper in singlet and underwear, and waited for Scout to finally calm down. He was still terrified over the suddenness of the explosion of pain, and he could swear he still felt it, but not as strong, like a shadow. He stroke his left arm with his right, desperately trying not to look at the man sitting in front of him, but his eyes didn't listen. It ended up with him staring awkwardly at Sniper's right shoulder, as that couldn't be understood wrongly. He wiped away the tears in his eyes with the back of his right hand.

"If you..." He said suddenly. It felt weird talking, and his voice was low, shaking and scratchy. He coughed, trying to normalise it a bit, before he tried again. "If ya tell anybody," he said, trying to find back his awesomeness and tough-guyness, "what jus' happened, I'll frickin' kill ya, a'ight?"

Sniper just chuckled and smiled a little smile while raising an eyebrow.  
"Yeah, I'm real' scared of you," he said with that low, scary voice of his. "I can't imagine what terrible way you would kill me."

The cast made a cool clonk!-sound when Scout knocked on it with his other hand. He smiled an evil, superior smile at Sniper.  
"With this baby," he said dramatically, holding up his left arm at the roof, "I'll rule the world - no, the entire universe!" He laughed like one of the mad scientists he'd seen in a movie. "But first... I'd kill you! If you were to tell someone, that is. It ain't like they're gonna believe you anyway, you know, 'cus I ain't a freakin' crybaby, and I never-"

"You can take on the universe tomorrow," Sniper interrupted, before he proceeded to ruffle Scout's hair. "Even mad scientists need their sleep."

Scout started to say against him, but got interrupted by a yawn. You really got tired from lying and writhing in pain, screaming and yelling and crying. And that medicine was probably some sort of painkiller-extract mixed with calming fluids or something. Whatever it was, it didn't matter, as his brain had started to slow down, making thinking difficult.

"Is there anything you want before I go back to bed?" Sniper, who had been sitting on the edge of the couch-bed hybrid, stood up.

_I want you_, Scout thought.

He looked up at him, leaning up against the wall behind him. "Well," he said, unsure if he should continue or not. "There is one thing. If it ain't too much to ask, that is..."

Fifteen minutes later, Scout received a cup almost flowing over with hot chocolate. He carefully moved it closer to his lips and blew at it. The smell of hot chocolate filled his nostrils, bringing him back to when he was a kid, back in Boston.

He'd played his first baseball match ever. The opponents were good - better than Scout's team, but his competitiveness made him push himself extremely to his limits, as well as being all "I'll do this" the entire time. Not a team player.

So, one of the kids on the team, Scout couldn't remember his name, was going to bat, but there was no way Scout would let anyone besides himself do that, as this was the last round. He'd run up to the kid, punched him in his face, and taken his place. Just like that. Anyway, Scout was a horrible batter at that time, so it wasn't much of a surprise when he couldn't hit the ball properly even once.

Long story short, his team had lost because of him, and he'd returned home beaten and in a terrible mood. Ma had made him hot chocolate, the best chocolate he'd ever had. Then she'd wrapped him up in a blanket, and they had sat in the couch watching TV and drinking the best chocolate in the world together. He was eight at that time, and all his bigger brothers were out. Just he and his Ma.

The memory made him happy. It was a good memory, but it didn't make him miss her, in fact, it made him feel even more grateful for Sniper bothering to do this for him.

He smiled widely and took a sip from the warm liquid. It was straight out fantastic. Not as good as Ma's chocolate, but it was a good second place. It was burning hot, almost as hot as him, causing him to burn his tongue. Ignoring the sharp pain, he took a second sip.

"Did ya like it?"

"Yeah." Scout studied the cup. It was white. He smiled a bit when he saw the inscription._ #1 Sniper._ Well, that was true. Sniper was the best sniper. At least in his eyes. "It's wonderful."

He finished drinking the chocolate and put the cup down on the tiny kitchen bench plate which covered the sink.

"If there's nothing more, I'll go back to sleep now." Sniper lifted up the wooden plate and put the dirty cup down in sink before opening a window.

"Nah, I'm fine." Scout slid down to a more lying position. "Thanks."

"There's no need to thank, it took fifteen minutes."

"No, not for the chocolate," he wasn't used to thank people like this, but he did his best. He shrugged. "For... For everythin', I guess. For staying with me. And for letting me stay here." He paused and took a deep breath. "I appreciate it, a'ight?"

"Hey, it's the last thing I could do for ya. I did push ya down from that tower, after all."

"No, you didn't. It was my fault. I was the one who started you." It was hard admitting his own faults, but jeez, this guy had stayed with him the entire time, he felt it was absolutely the right thing to do to say this. "I guess it's the fault of us both."

Sniper didn't reply at first. Instead, he climbed up into his bed. "Probably," he said after a little while.

Scout had no idea why he had to climb all the way up there to reply, but he guessed it was some Australian thing. Maybe it was easiest for them to talk while lying in bed. That was probably the reason Sniper rarely talked more than a little at the time, he was used to talk in bed. But how did they attend courts and classes and stuff like that? He chuckled at the thought of a classroom filled with kids in beds.

"Oi, what's so funny?"

"Oh, nothin'." Scout just couldn't stop laughing. "Nothin' at all."

"Then stop laughin' and go to sleep, you twat."

"All right." He finished laughing at classrooms filled with beds before he pulled the blanket around him, as it was getting cooler in the van. The extreme tiredness from earlier was gone, replaced with a load of energy for some reason.

"Snipes?"

No respond.

"Hey, Snipes!"

Still no response. Goddamnit, Sniper, couldn't you hear Scout trying to contact you?

"Sniiiipes!"

"What?!" Sniper sounded really annoyed, like he always did when someone woke him. It was incredible how someone could fall asleep that fast.

"Why did I hurt?"

"What do you mean?" His voice wasn't so annoyed anymore, it was more concerned again.

"I meant what I said. Why did it hurt so much?" He moved his well hand over the places where it had hurt the most, like his back.

"I don't know." Sniper sighed loudly, Scout had noticed that he had a tendency to do that almost all the time, and turned around. Scout could barely see his contours in the dark, but he found the Aussie's head and looked up at it.

"Did ya," Sniper continued, "remember to take yer painkillers before going to bed?"

Oh.  
The painkillers. Those pills were apparently a bit more important than he thought.

"Heh.. Whoops?"

"There ya go. The reason you hurt."

"Oh. Shouldn't I take them now, then?"

"That shouldn't be necessary. The stuff I put in yer arm should take care of most of the pain. But it should have made you sleep by now. Aren't you tired?"

"No, not at all." That was true. He had almost died from sleepiness earlier, but now he felt like he had energy to run until dawn. Damn, he missed running. "Should I?"

"Yeah, you should."

"I guess I ain't!" Scout was now lying on his back, gesticulating crazily with his hands while talking. "Woo, I'm like, a frickin'... Oppositer! Is that a word? Oppositer? If it ain't, I'm totally claiming it. Scout the Oppositer!"

"_Oppositer_," Sniper repeated with a tired voice.

"Yeah! As in, whenever somethin' happens to me, the opposite happens!" He thought a bit at it. "Except energy drinks. And bullets. Pretty much everything except calm-down thingies."

"Can you please calm down?"

"A'ight, no problem, the Oppositer can turn his energy into sleepiness with no problem. G'night!"

"'Night."

Scout managed to be quiet in two minutes before he started chuckling at something he thought of.

"Hey. Hey Snipes. Hey."

"What the hell do you want?"

"Australians doesn't have sex." He snickered.

"Uh... Excuse me?"

"Australians..." Scout was shaking with oppressed laughter. "...mate."

He exploded with laughter. It was impossible to stop; he just kept laughing and wheezing for air. He wiped a tear from an eye.

"Wow, funny." Sniper's voice was sarcastic. "I got one for you."

"You do?" Scout had calmed a bit down, not laughing like a maniac anymore.

"Yer still a virgin, right?"

That wasn't nice. Like it was his fault all those stupid women were too retarded to recognise the hottest guy they'd ever meet. "Yeah," he replied lowly. "But that's jus' because-"

"Then I guess... Yer just a... WANKAH!" Sniper laughed lowly at his own joke, while Scout was just looking angrily at him. That was just plain out mean. Why did people need to be so damn mean to him? He wasn't mean to them, was he? …At least not all the time.

"I guess I'll go to sleep, then," he said, trying to sound offended by Sniper's joke, but ended up sounded like a spoiled brat or something.

"A'ight. G'night, mate."

"Good night, Snipes." He laid down on his left side, packed the blanket tight up under his pointy chin, and moved his legs as close up to his chest as possible. "I lov-" he interrupted himself.

What the fuck? This did not just happen. It just couldn't. He'd almost told him straight out what he felt. His only hope was that Sniper hasn't heard him, as if he had, it would be difficult to explain. Very difficult. Besides, it was way too early to tell him now.

And how did you explain to a guy who's old enough to be your father that you love him?

"Did ya say anythin'?"

"N-no. It was nothin'. Good night."

"Good night, Scout."

Grateful Sniper hadn't heard him, Scout finally fell asleep right before Sniper started snoring.


	8. Chapter 8

The sun is located far away from the Earth. Very far away. Scout had probably heard how far away it was once, but right at this moment he was too busy figuring how it could perform such a perfect headshot.

The sunlight was seeping through one tiny opening in the curtain that covered the window, at an angle which hit him directly in his eyes.

He turned around, but it was too late, it would be impossible to fall asleep again, even though it felt like someone had filled his head with concrete during the night, so he sat up. His hair was incredibly intidy when he ran a hand through it and he could barely keep his eyes open.

"Hey, Snipes?"

No response. Maybe the old man was still asleep. The cast on his leg made a stump sound when it hit the floor as Scout tried to get up. He'd seen people walk with a cast before, so it shouldn't be that much of a problem.

"All right," he said to nobody in particular while slowly trying to stand up while holding his balance. "Easy now. Eeeasy." His arms were all over the place as he lost his balance, waving and trying to find something to grab, but for no use. The couch squeaked loudly as he fell back down on it.

"Snipes, wake up, goddamnit!"

Still no response. Scout was hungry and extremely tired. The best solution would be Sniper making him breakfast, but as he was plain out ignoring him... Geez, did he need to do everything by himself?

He stood up one more time, this time a bit more slowly. It was difficult keeping balance, as he'd been lying for more than a week, but on pure willpower, he was able to stand more or less normally. He took a clumsy step forward, whimpering lowly as he put his weight on the injured leg. The sharp pain made him quickly step on the other leg. It was an awful way to move, it hurt and it was clumsy, but it was better than nothing.

Limping over to Sniper's bed, Scout planned on scaring him some way, waking him up. He sneaked up close, took a deep breath and yelled "BOO!" while grabbing the person he thought was lying under the blanket.

No Sniper. Had he seriously just left him just like that? Without saying anything?

"Wow," Scout said lowly to himself. "Rude."

He halfway walked, halfway jumped on his right foot to the door. The inside of the van was comfortably dark, but outside the sunlight was probably very strong. Closing his eyes so they wouldn't burn to ashes as soon as the sunbeams hit them, he opened the door. The colour inside his eyelids quickly turned from comfortable black to painful, reddish pink. He covered them from the light with his arm before slowly opening them.

There was not a single cloud on the bright blue sky. The sun, which was fairly high up at it, shone bright down at the dry ground which was almost completely bare around the van, witch exception from some grass here and there. Sniper was sitting in a chair facing the sun, eyes in the shade of his hat, reading some sort of book.

"Hey." Not really wanting to step out of the van as he was almost naked, Scout just put his head out through the door.

"Well, look who it is." Sniper laid the book down, adjusted his hat a bit and looked at Scout. "Wow, it looks like someone hit ya with a truck."

"Thanks, I appreciate your compliment," Scout replied sarcastically. "What time is it?"

The man in the chair looked down at his watch. "Half past one. D'ya sleep 'til now?"

Scout nodded. He didn't usually sleep this long, he tended to be up early, as he found sleeping boring. "I'm hungry," he complained.

The Australian didn't even look at him. "Then make yerself some food."

"Can't you?" Scout was not the kind of guy who made food, in fact, he'd only done it a couple of times during his entire life. At home, his mother used to do it, and in the base he usually ate in the cafeteria with the others, even though the food usually tasted like shit. In the start, he'd wondered who had made it, but as he'd never found out, he'd stopped caring.

When he came to think of it, Sniper was rarely to see in the tiny cafeteria. He probably made all his food by himself out here.

"Can't I?" Sniper repeated. "Nope. Busy." He held up his book as to prove his point.

"No, you're not." Like a book was more important than a full Scout. "Make me some food," he demanded.

"Nah. Do it yerself. And stop demanding people around." Sniper looked back in his book. "If you don't like it, why would you think other do so?"

Scout opened his mouth as to say something, but he had no way to argue back. "I have no idea how to cook."

"What are ya? Six?"

"I-"

"Go make yer own damn food," Sniper interrupted and looked back up at Scout. "And put on some clothes, if you wouldn't mind."

"Fine! Jeez!" Scout went back in the van, slamming the door behind him. He had hoped it would make a loud sound so Sniper understood how much he disliked being treated like this, but instead it slid perfectly shut, muffled by rubber on rubber inside it.

"_Make yer own damn food_." He imitated Sniper as he tried to locate some clothes to put on. His own clothes were covered with tomato sauce after he managed to tip the plate with spaghetti while eating dinner yesterday. There had been spaghetti everywhere, even falling out of his pockets as he hurriedly trying to clean up his mess. There was no way he was wearing that. It was way too red.

Then what should he wear? The only clothing in the van was Sniper's. He could go back to his room in the base to get some new clothes, but to do that, he needed some to wear first, as there was no way that lazy bastard out there would get it for him. He sighed as he pulled out one of Sniper's shirts. There was probably a way he could wear it without looking like him.

A couple of minutes later, he was searching for eggs wearing an unbuttoned shirt with a singlet under and a pair of folded up pants.

Where were those damn eggs? He searched everywhere, until he found a cooler located under the coach. A blast of cool air hit his face as he opened it. It was filled with beer, but placed on the top of it, four eggs and a pack of bacon. He guessed that was all, and took up two eggs and the bacon pack.

Turning on the tiny cooking plate was a bigger obstacle on his way to make breakfast than finding it the ingredients. He turned everything at max, but nothing happened.

"Hey, Snipes," he yelled out the open window, even though they was more than close enough to hear each other perfectly fine speaking normally. "How do I turn on the plate?"

"Talk dirty to it."

"Wow, funny." It was pretty funny, but he was way to hungry to laugh. "Seriously, dude, how does the plate work?"

Sniper explained as good as he could how it worked, step for step. It didn't really give much results, as Scout had never had less idea what he was doing. He swore lowly as he tried for the third time without anything happening. He decided to try one more time, and if that didn't work, he'd go eat in the cantina.

"Wooo!" he yelled as a huge flame suddenly spewed out from the plate with a loud _WHOOSH_, causing him to jump backwards in surprise, lose balance and fall down at the couch. "That's what I'm talkin' 'bout!"

He heard Sniper yell, asking what the bloody hell was going on in there, but Scout ignored him, reaching out to turn down the flames a bit. Happy with his success, he proceed to put a pan on the plate.

Now what? Should he just slam those eggs and the bacon down in the pan, just like that? He shrugged and cracked open an egg on the edge of the pan. Just as he was going to open it up enough for the sticky goo inside to seep out, the entire thing collapsed in his way too hard grip, covering his hand with transparent, sticky, disgusting fluid, eggshell and yellow yolk. He did a throwing motion down at the pan, and the egg landed at it with a splat, followed by a fssh as it started cooking.

Success! He smiled as he did the same thing with the other egg, and when he put a couple bacon strips in there, too. This was going so much better than expected.

Ten minutes later, he was disappointedly poking the burned egg/bacon mix with a fork. He was sitting in a chair outside, next to Sniper, as they had to ventilate the entire van after Scout had burned the eggs so bad they almost caught fire. He stabbed a piece with the fork and put it in his mouth. Not only did it taste awful, it crunched, too.

"That," he heard Sniper say, "is one of the saddest things I've seen for some time."

Scout didn't answer, he just looked down at the plate. He was disappointed in himself, it had went so well, but everything had somehow messed up anyway.

"How many eggs were left?"

"Two," he mumbled as he stabbed another piece with egg and put it in his mouth. He had to force himself to not throw it back up, as the taste of burnt egg spread in his mouth. In the corner of his eyes he noticed Sniper getting up from his chair. Scout pretended to enjoy his meal until he heard Sniper close the door behind him.

"Screw you," he said lowly to the stuff on his plate. It didn't respond. He hadn't really expected it to do so anyway. It made a nice sound when he squashed it, though. The consistence was almost like rubber when he squeezed it, but when it broke together, it splattered through the fingers of the fork. It was pretty entertaining compared to eating it.

The smell of bacon hung in the air, making Scout's stomach growl and his mouth become watery and hunger for the salty and crispy meat. It smelled so wonderful, compared to the coaly things he could barely call bacon on his plate. He ignored Sniper when he heard him to come back out again.

"Here." Sniper laid two white pills on the side of Scout's plate. "I take a guess that you forgot." He reached him a glass of orange juice. Scout wondered where that had been, the juice, as he hadn't seen it when searching for eggs.

After drinking up the juice and taking his pills, Scout's stomach roared in hunger. He took a quick look at Sniper's lap, where he had a plate with two eggs, bacon and lots of beans. Sniper must have noticed, as he looked back at him.

"Y'want one?"

"I have my own," Scout replied dryly. And then, lowly: "Yeah. I guess I do."

Sniper reached him the plate, telling him that he'd already eaten, and wasn't really hungry. Gratefulness began to spread in Scout, he wasn't used to this kind of situation.

He looked up at the other man. "Thanks, bro."

Sniper just nodded once while smiling. Why was he so damn pretty? Just looking at him made Scout want to drop everything he had and go and kiss him or something. Every muscle in his body itched to do something, every nerve longed for Sniper's touch and his mouth just wanted to taste Sniper's.

He had to focus on his newly acquired meal, he just hoped he wasn't sweating. Or worse, blushing. All right, Scout, he told himself, breathe in, breathe out.

The yellow yolk flowed over when Scout poked it with his fork. He took a piece of bacon and ate it with a forkful of egg and beans. It tasted heavenly compared to the stuff he made himself, way too good to be eaten slowly, he was way too hungry for that, too, so he ate it up like he hadn't eaten in days.

"Ya hungry today, boy?"

Scout ignored Sniper calling him "boy" and nodded. "It was awesome. Thanks." He looked back up at Sniper and smiled. Sniper smiled back. He was so close, but yet so far away. Maybe it was time to tell him?

"Snipes," he said with a shaky voice. His heart was pounding hard enough for him to hear and feel, he was worried that Sniper could hear it. Suddenly his mouth got all dry. He wished he hadn't drunk all the juice. "I... I need to tell you somethin'."

"Go on."

How could Sniper be so damn calm when Scout was _this_ close freaking out? "I," he said lowly, unsure how to formulate himself, "I... Really liked your eggs."

What. Had he just...?

_What the heck, Scout?_

"Wow, huh, thanks." Sniper sounded pretty confused, he'd probably expected something a bit bigger.

"No, that's not it." Scout took a deep breath, closed his eyes and decided to just jump in it. "I-I really like you, aight?"

"Many people do." Scout could hear that Sniper was smiling widely by this point. He probably found this whole thing entertaining. "Except the people I shoot, of course. No big surprise really."

"No, I..." well, this was it. No more hiding. "I love you," he said, very, very lowly.

"Come again? I didn't hear ya."

Scout was starting to feel a bit annoyed. This was difficult enough to start with, if Sniper didn't have to make it so damn complicated.

"Fine." He searched every inch of his body for some braveness, but at this point, he couldn't find any. So he did it without. Shaking, sweating, trying to swallow spit that didn't exist in his mouth and probably blushing, he looked up at Sniper and tried to look him in his eyes, which was covered with sunglasses. He felt an urge to rip them off.

"I love you." His voice was surprisingly steady. He breathed out, terrified. "All right. I guess I'll leave now."

He stood up from the chair and started limping towards the base. There was no way Sniper loved him back, so he'd probably just messed up everything they had. There was no reason for him to stay any longer.

"I know."

Sniper's voice made him stop and turn around. "You know what?"

"I heard ya yesterday." Sniper was smiling a weird smile. "I've seen it in yer face for some time, too. You aren't very good hiding your emotions."

"Wha-why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell ya what? That I knew it?"

"Yeah!" Scout was starting to feel a bit upset, as he had to go through this, when Sniper already knew.

"Because I wanted ya to tell me face to face." He took of his sunglasses and looked at Scout, who had clumsily walked back to him, now standing six feet away, in his eyes. "Besides, I love ya too."

Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Hold on a second. He was probably just kidding. Right? He'd never experienced somebody say they loved him back, besides his mother, but that didn't really count.

"I, you, wha-" He stuttered, unable to think of what the hell he should do at this point. One part of his brain told him to run away and never return, but another part told him to stay.

"Get over here, wanker," Sniper said, waving Scout towards him. Unable to think of anything else to do, he stumbled towards him, until he was standing right next to him.

"Hey," he said confused.

Sniper didn't respond, instead, he grabbed Scout's head with his hands, pulled him down and kissed him.

Scout had no idea what to do. He'd never gotten this far before. It was wonderful, but he felt like he had to do something himself, so he ended up trying to copy what Sniper was doing. His stomach was filled with butterflies, it felt like he was flying, like Sniper was the only person in the world.

K-dank!

He'd somehow managed to hit his teeth against the Australian's. He quickly pulled away and looked down at the ground, disappointed in himself. It wasn't that hard to kiss someone, but he'd still managed to mess up so badly.

"Yer first time, eh?"

Scout didn't reply. He was too busy trying to faint from the extreme amounts of energy which was quickly filling his body, making him forget to be disappointed. Instead, he smiled widely, and almost bursted out laughing for some reason.

"Ya weren't half bad."

"Yeah, I was." He looked up at Sniper, who was looking softly back at him. "I did awful."

"Yeah, ya did." Sniper laughed lowly. "You... What would you have said? _Sucked."_

"Wow, thanks." Scout jokingly hit Sniper's arm.

"Ya messin' with me?" That low voice of his was really scary. Scout took a step backwards as Sniper stood up from the chair. "That'll be the last thing ya do!" He leaped towards Scout, grabbed him and made him fall backwards on the dry ground.

"No, stop!" Scout squealed as Sniper started to dig his finger into Scout's sides. He gasped for air as he squirmed to get away from the Aussie's grip. "Please!"

But Sniper didn't let go, instead, he just tickled him even more, causing him to laugh and squeal and giggle like crazy. Tears started to fill his eyes from all the laughing. He snorted with laughter as Sniper's fingers ran up and down his sides. Trying to break free, Scout waved his good arm all over, while writhing like a snake on the dusty ground. No use, it was impossible to get away.

After some time, Scout had no idea how long it had been, Sniper stopped. Breathing heavily, Scout pushed him off and sat up. The older man got up.

"See ya in the van," he said with a challenging look before he went inside.

Scout was a bit unsure what he had meant in the beginning, but after some time, he understood it perfectly. More excited that he'd ever been before, he followed Sniper into the van.


	9. Epilogue

**A/N: Way too much talking and way too little action, but I needed an ending for this so yeah.**

"So anyway, I just, y'know, shot that freakin' moron right in his stupid face, I mean, he didn't even know who I was, right? He probably mixed me with someone else or something, I don't know, but seriously, he was like, BAM! Dead! I got the Intelligence and…"

Sniper smiled. He had started to get used to Scout being around, and he secretly enjoyed every second of it. The kid's stories tended to get more and more unrealistic, but this one was still the same. They were back in the tower where all this had started, with him almost killing the boy he now loved in a blind rage. His gun was pointing out of the window, ready to shoot whoever passed.

"Do ya see anyone?" Sniper felt Scout lay his head down at his right shoulder, sending chills down his spine.

A flash of red passed his scope.

_BLAM!_

A dead RED Scout fell to the ground.

"Nah, just annoying little pricks," he said, smiling mockingly.

"Whoa, funny." Scout punched his left arm jokingly, a gesture they'd been using more and more often lately. "Geez, I can't wait to get out of these damn casts. They're so fuckin' itchy. An' I wanna ruuuun!"

"At least yer unable to run in front of me scope all the bloody time," Sniper mumbled.

"I heard that."

"That was the point."

Scout sat down right next to Sniper, almost on him, even though the crate was more than big enough for them both. Sniper didn't complain, though, as long as he didn't disturb him too much, the boy was more than welcome enough to stay here. He wasn't really for any use on the field, either, as he was unable to both run and fight.

"Y'know," the kid said, starting to reach for a particular point on Sniper's body. "We're all alone up here…"

Sniper simply shoved Scout's hand away without even looking away from the scope.

"Scout, not now."

"But _Snipes…"_

"No."

"Are ya always this boring?" Scout asked with an overly done bored gesture that followed his voice.

"Nah, I'm usually way more borin'."

_BLAM! _

A clueless Demoman fell to the ground, head still intact. Scout laughed at him, mocking him.

"Whoa, dude, his head's still there? You freakin' _suck!"_

"I guess I had to compensatefor last night." Another strike at his arm. "Why don't you make yerself useful and fetch that coffee over there." There was no need to explain where it was, as there was only one extra thermos in the tower room.

"But-"

"No buts, I need some coffee."

"No butts, eh?" Scout leant over Sniper with his head turned and looked at him upside-down. It was a weird thing to do, but the boy had a tendency to do weird things, especially when he was bored. "I know one butt you liked pretty well." He laughed, but got slowly up. As he walked over to the thermos, Sniper could hear him mumble something about "that Australian is so goddamn boring".

"If yer so bored, why don't ya go do somethin' else?"

"'Cause I'm not sure how to get down."

"Come again?"

"I guess I'm afraid of falling."


End file.
